Archive for March, 2014

Engine, engine, number nine,
On the New York transit line,
If my train goes off the track,
Pick it up! Pick it up! Pick it up!

I’m always bewildered by the random information that my mind chooses to remember. I suspect in this particular case VH1 may be to blame, as I seem to recall watching a show about seminal moments in hip-hop history. Of course why I chose not to change the channel is beyond me especially as my taste in music can best be described as bordering on eclectic and dabbling in non-existent. It’s not that I don’t enjoy music, but rather I tend to function without it.

You’re more likely to find me with my nose in a book, than having the stereo blaring. In fact I’m one of those bizarre types that appreciates peace and quiet, while I’m busy losing myself in another world. Even having the TV on in the background is what I would term an unnecessary distraction.

It’s a strange admission to concede that music isn’t exactly a focal point in my life. After all I do have somewhat of a poetic streak running through me. Admittedly it is a hidden talent if I can call it that. I can imagine it lying dusty and forgotten in the corner of one of the rooms in my mind. It only tends to rise to the surface when there’s a bit of melodrama in my life, like the creativity is fuelled by confrontation or commiserations.

I can only hope that writing poetry is like riding a bike. That no matter how long the hiatus, like an eager mistress she’ll be there waiting with slippers in one hand and a pipe in the other. A part of me misses writing poetry, and yet there is another part that is content that asks, ‘why rock the boat’?

Perhaps I’m oversimplifying and using the lack of drama to justify my creative inertia. Maybe if I just put pen to paper I’ll be surprised by the way the letters arrange themselves…